Cut & Run by Madeleine Urban, Abigail Roux

and looked at his partner as he removed his own mask, tilting his head. “Where do you want to go? Crime scene?”
    Ty shook his head. “Somewhere empty,” he answered with a wince.
    “Maybe they have a meeting room at the field office with a whiteboard we can use,” he suggested.
    “There are classrooms at Federal Plaza. Most times they’re empty, if there’s not a team in training,” Zane offered. “Henninger told me about them last night.”
    “Oh, yeah? What else did the kid tell you?” Ty asked sarcastically.
    “He suggested putting you out of your misery,” Zane answered pleasantly.
    “Your gun ain’t big enough, son,” Ty drawled with a smirk.
    “At the risk of sounding clichéd, I've never had that complaint before,” Zane answered, turning to lead the way toward the car.
    Ty remained where he was and tilted his head to watch Zane as he walked down the hall. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he scoffed finally, smirking as he followed.
    “Somehow I just don’t believe you’re remotely serious about that,”
    Zane replied without looking back or breaking stride.
    “Your loss, Brutus,” Ty laughed as they came up to the elevators and he punched the button.
    Zane’s brow furrowed. “Brutus?” he asked. “As in Brutus and Cassius?”
    “Sure, man, if you say so,” Ty laughed.
    Rolling his eyes, Zane got on the elevator once the door opened.
    “You know, at first I was insulted by the way you treat me. Then I realized it’s not personal; you treat everyone like shit. I find it doesn’t bother me all too much anymore,” he said.
    “Usually I only don’t bother people I want to see naked,” Ty told him seriously as the elevator rose. “So stop it. You’re freaking me out.”

    Cut & Run | 61

    Zane watched his partner curiously as several people filed into the elevator from the hallway. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he said under his breath as they walked out. The slightly suggestive tones of Ty’s words freaked him out, too.
    The walk and drive to the office were quiet, and his mind wandered back to the case. They made it into the office and secured one of the empty classrooms with a minimum of fuss, mainly because Ty didn’t request one—
    he just took one over.
    “Okay,” Ty grunted as soon as they had settled in. “So, what do we know about the latest victim?” he asked as he thunked the stack of paperwork down on the table in the middle of the room and went to the wall where a whiteboard was bolted up. He grabbed the dry-erase marker and began scribbling the names of the victims. “The new victim,” he started. “Prison tat on his arm was pretty clear, so he’s not squeaky clean.”
    “File says he was paroled two years ago. Clean record since then,”
    Zane said.
    “Uh-huh,” Ty muttered as he began writing in the physical characteristics of each victim, excluding the two FBI agents. Age, race, height, weight, hair color, eye color. “Well,” he said as he stepped back and cocked his head. “They’re all Caucasian?” he offered weakly.
    “Actually, no, the stock broker was biracial and the roommate was Latino.”
    “Goddammit,” Ty cussed as he made the corrections. “They’re too random to be random,” he muttered, neither noticing nor caring that the statement would make little sense outside of his own mind.
    Zane raised his brow. “Didn’t I say that yesterday?” he asked, forcing himself to be patient. Somehow.
    “You say that like you think I listen to you,” Ty responded instantly, a smile pulling at his lips.
    Zane snorted in irritation, scooted his chair back, and crossed his legs restlessly.
    “Maybe it’s not the victims at all,” Ty went on as he sat on the edge of the table. “Maybe they’re just wrong place, wrong time.”
    “Possibly,” Zane allowed. “But what’s been done to them is very specific.”

    62 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

    “Mm hmm,” Ty nodded. “So that’s where we look for the trigger.
    Either the